Hotel Boy
by Yeaomi
Summary: That's right. It's the hotel boy from Hellsing. What happens after Alucard alters the poor boy's mind? Can he ever get Alucard out of his mind? Will he lose his soul forever? Written for a friend, some sexual imagery.


**Hotel Boy: More than Blood.**

To return home after such a long strange day seemed odd to him somehow. He just hadn't been able to focus on his work at all. His mind kept returning to the strange foreign man. What had his name been? Ah, yes... Mr. J.H. Blemner.

He was positive that it was a pseudo-name. It wasn't uncommon. It wasn't that they were a seedy hotel or anything, just that it was quite common to get the aristocrats that liked to hide their personal life... Or business...

And this man was clearly here on business. A smile graced his lips as he recalled the classy attire. He'd seen plenty of rich suits before. Some nicer than the one the man had been wearing, but there was just something about the way he had 'worn' the suit. It didn't simply hang on him. It was almost as if everything about or near him had been an extension of his body. His very air was filled with power and class. It was overwhelming.

Was that why he had broken the hotel policy? Why he had risked getting reprimanded, written up, or possibly worse? Because he enjoyed the way the man wore a suit?

He subconsciously licked his lips as he thought it over again. 'Everything is just fine.' Well certainly everything was not 'just fine'. He'd been lucky and it was baffling.

He needed to take his mind off of his bizarre behavior.

He sat back on the bed and flicked on the TV, looking for his favorite night time show. Unfortunately, there seemed to be some breaking news taking place.

So much for forgetting the man.

There he was in all his 'glory' plastered across all the channels. He collapsed back on the bed, pillow over face to muffle his cry of despair.

'Just turn the TV off... It's not that important... Sure, it _is_ your place of work, and it does appear to be... blowing up... But you don't need to know this! You'll figure it out when you go into work tomorrow and find a pile of rubble! So just turn off the TV...'

According to the news, it was terrorists. But he knew better. Reporters and authorities were so easy to buy off... It happened all the time in this area of the woods.

He reached for the remote and froze fingers just inches from the buttons.

It was so bloody... So horrible. And there he was. Classy suit lost by the wayside for something straight out of an old classy horror film. And it certainly seemed like the starring monster had stepped out of the front entrance to the hotel.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he'd known any of those corpses now hanging off the poles or split in half in a puddle on the ground.

But all thoughts slowly left him as he stared across at the screen. 'Everything is just...fine.'

A feeling of bliss spread over him. It was just like earlier in the day when that man had 'touched him'. It had felt like a promise of eternal heaven. Or possibly simply hell as his soul bent at the man's will.

Heat spread out through his body. He was only half conscious of the chaos breaking out on the television.

He wanted to have it again. He wanted to have this man come to him now and 'touch' his soul again. He wanted to serve that man, to be damned by him as he defiled every part of him, inside and out.

He could almost feel invisible hands caressing every part of him, sliding burning hot fingertips across his overly sensitive flesh; luring him, teasing him to obey.

Just like before, he felt his very core being rocked and forced into complete bliss. Only this time, he couldn't get a hold of himself. He couldn't force himself to relax and simply walk it off. His body wouldn't allow it.

A hand slowly slid across his chest, working its way downward slowly. He could almost feel those horrifying eyes watching him, eager to have one more victim. 'Come to us. Let us show you more pleasure than your mortal body could ever imagine.'

He was tired of resisting. Lips parted slowly as his breath escaped with a soft 'yes'. He would serve this demon, this devil that walked among the living so arrogantly.

The boy squirmed in helpless pleasure, pants pushed down carelessly and shirt half off and tossed aside. He didn't care that he couldn't hear the sounds of the TV anymore, or that the room had darkened to an inky black. He was here. A part of that man was here with him, leaking from the back of the boy's mind and forcing himself upon him. Controlling him in the worst way. This boy could no longer be saved… No longer wanted to be saved.

The buildup was immense as his body twitched, toes curling and breath coming in sharp shallow gasps. At long last he erupted, collapsing back on the bed fully, skin covered in sweat and heart pounding in his ears. Everything slowed as the pleasure continued to wash over him in waves, slowly lulling the boy into the deep.

He smiled as he drifted away. He would give himself again and again till he had nothing left to give, as long as it helped the Master. His very soul ripped from him piece by piece. The Master needed to feed, after all. And willing servants were always so much more fun.


End file.
